


True Love Waits

by Yuri4Gwen



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blood, Criminal Underworld, Cruel Oswald Cobblepot, Deception, F/M, Friendship, Gangsters, Jealous Oswald Cobblepot, Loneliness, Lonely Oswald Cobblepot, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Control, Multi, Murder, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Kissing, One-Sided Attraction, Oswald's Great Relationship With His Parents, POV Oswald Cobblepot, Pining Edward Nygma, Pining Oswald Cobblepot, Poetry, Revenge, Romance, Selfless Edward Nygma, Siren Oswald, Socially Awkward Edward Nygma, Supernatural Elements, Tragedy, Vengeful Oswald Cobblepot, Violence, vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-22 15:37:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13767213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuri4Gwen/pseuds/Yuri4Gwen
Summary: When Oswald’s first foray into love is beset by tragedy and murder it morphs him into a monster eager for vengeance against the kind of woman who has it all but doesn’t appreciate the luxury of love. Time does not fade Oswald’s resolve for revenge until he meets the awkward Edward Nygma a man who desperately wants to waste his affection on the type of woman Oswald despises.  Will Oswald regain his humanity in time to experience real love? Or will his need for revenge be his ultimate downfall?





	1. The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name

**Author's Note:**

> Un-betaed so please excuse all my mistakes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Victorian era, Oswald Cobblepot is a shy sheltered young man who lives with his adoring parents in comfortable luxury. A fateful visit to London will awaken new feelings within him that will change the course of his life forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed so please excuse all my mistakes.

London, 1895

Oswald felt an itchy, uncomfortable trickle of sweat roll down the back of his neck, as the crowd seemed to swell around him. He shrunk in on himself as best he could and searched for the exit, all the air in the room was stale and hot, sitting uncomfortably in his lungs restricting his ability to breathe. Finding the exit to be on the other side of the aisle, he looked down at his feet so as to avoid interacting with anyone and facilitate a hasty exit. A sharp sting erupted in his left calf, which stopped his pursuit of the door. “Oh I’m so sorry, it’s quite crowded in here and I didn’t see you.” The soft sincerity in the woman’s voice compelled Oswald to turn around and reassure her that everything was quite all right, accidents do happen as his mother would never forgive him if she discovered that his manners had abandoned him in London, the very epicenter of polite society.

A petite, blonde woman dressed in an elegant royal blue dress with matching hat and parasol with a kind, gentle face that bore the embarrassed blush of someone who had accidentally encroached on another person’s space was standing before him. Oswald gave her a placated smile hoping that this exchange would be over quickly, he needed some cool air and didn’t have the energy for frivolous conversation. “Think nothing of it, my dear, it is quite crowded in here.” “You’re too kind, how did you find the play?” Oswald sighed internally, there had to be a way to end this conversation abruptly without it seeming that was what he was doing so he didn’t offend her. “Yes, it was interesting.” “Oh, I know, quite different from his earlier work…” ‘I’ll let her gush about Wilde for a short time, politely nod here and there then excuse myself when a sufficient amount of time has passed.’ Oswald nodded while discreetly looking around the room at the dissipating crowd desperately wishing he could join them, ‘I could claim to have a very important appointment tomorrow, therefore not insulting her company but showing an urgency for more personal matters.’ Oswald looked back at the woman with the intention of stating his plans to retire when he saw her eyes move back on him from where she’d been preoccupied with something across the room. ‘Oh thank god, she’s just being polite because she thinks she offended me and someone else has caught her attention.’

“Irene, there you are.” A deep, booming voice laced with a pleasant regal English accent broke through the woman’s one-sided conversation with Oswald. “Ah Herbert, I’m sorry darling I accidentally jabbed this gentleman with my parasol and we’ve been discussing dear Oscar’s play ever since.” Deep, forest green eyes set in a handsome, angular face with wavy blonde hair cut close to his head and a well trimmed, waxed beard, suddenly filled Oswald’s vision with his charming smile and Oswald suddenly felt as though all that stale air had been forced from the room to create a vacuum that he was suspended in. “Oh sorry, I forgot to inquire as to your name…” Oswald looked over at the woman in bewilderment as though he hadn’t been nodding along to her opinions on the play for the last several minutes. A throat cleared and Oswald looked back to see a large, masculine hand with well-manicured nails in front of his face, “Herbert Thorne.” Oswald shook himself from his shock, he didn’t know what had come over him and took Mr. Thorne’s hand, it was solid with soft, warm skin and started mechanically, moving his hand in an imitation of a handshake. “Oswald Cobblepot.” “Oh an American, are you just visiting our dear city?” “Just looking at some fabrics for my father…business, for his tailor business.” 

Oswald was so embarrassed, he didn’t know why he was so flustered, Mr. Thorne seemed riveted by his every stuttered word but he was just being polite, he probably just thought of him as an uncouth American, his mother would be so disappointed, all that private schooling for this. “Oh yes you’ll find the finest fabrics in the world here, is it just a local business?” “Oh, one of the best in all of Gotham.” “Oh Gotham, I’ve heard great things, we shall have to visit someday won’t we sister dear.” ‘Sister?’ Oswald looked discreetly at the woman, as she shared a brief intense look with her brother before agreeing. “Would you care to join us for a drink, Mr. Cobblepot? Maybe discuss the play some more?” Oswald knew he shouldn’t especially as the woman was asking as he didn’t understand why she still wanted to spend time with him, she had already apologized for unintentionally striking him and he really did have a lot of work to do tomorrow before preparing for the long journey home the day after. He glanced at Mr. Thorne, ‘will you be joining us?’ who smiled at him then took his sister's arm and looked back at Oswald who walked quickly to his other side. 

 

It was a cold, bleak grey morning as Oswald headed towards the icy docks to board his ship to begin the long, arduous journey home. He looked forward to his mother’s smiling face, her melodic singing even her fussing over him although he would never admit it out loud. He could hear his father’s gentle voice from behind his newspaper before he would peek over it with his kind eyes, ‘How was London, my boy?’ and Oswald would tell him all about the magnificent fabrics he had acquired and the marvellous fashions he had seen before his father’s inevitable excitement would get the better of him and they’d lose themselves for the rest of the afternoon in tales of adventure and hand painted fabric. If he closed his eyes he could feel the warm glow of the fire, the soft rug on the hardwood floor digging into his knees, his father’s hand placed gently on his shoulder, the tickle of his mother’s hair against his cheek and her floral perfume invading his nose as she leaned closer to the fabric in front of him. ‘Oh my darling it is all so beautiful’

There was one fabric in particular that he knew his mother would love it was a soft mousselaine de soie as his mother favored a softer, graceful style; it suited her kind but theatrical soul his father always said with an adoring light in his eyes. ‘Look at this beautiful, sheer fabric Mr. Cobbleppot, you could make handsome dresses for the women of Gotham.’ A soft, warm fleeting touch across the back of his hand as he rests it atop the fabric, he feels his pulse thumping in his neck as his breath gathers in his lungs, looking up from his hand into deep, delighted green eyes he looks away bashfully to an amused laugh. As the cold seeps into his bones, Oswald reminisces about the previous day, how out of his depth he felt at times but also how accepted, at ease and part of him wanted to bask in that feeling and stay in London for a little longer but he knew his mother would worry. ‘I hope I’m not being too forward but here is my address in London, I do hope you’ll write, Mr. Cobblepot I believe we could be great friends.’ A folded sheet of paper was placed in his hand, and then warm fingers closed around his hand, holding on for a moment longer than was strictly necessary before leaving behind a cooling hand, crumpled paper, and a skittish Oswald. 

He feels for the piece of paper now, pulling it from his pocket to gently open it, re-read the outstanding penmanship, run his fingers over the crease which in this short time has already become yielding, withered as though he had held it for ten years and he feels a slight amount of warmth creep into his frame. Final call to board is announced, Oswald carefully folds the paper then places it back into his pocket before patting his jacket to make sure it was safely ensconced before wrapping his coat tighter around himself and walking towards the boat. 

 

Gotham, 1896

“Oswald, darling there is a letter here for you from London.” His mother’s amused tone reflected the warmth bubbling within him, his mother had been teasing him for these past eight months from the appearance of Herbert’s first letter, she had been suspicious at first which made Oswald feel completely transparent ‘How will this affect how she sees me?’ but his happiness was her joy. “Another letter from Irene, is it love my darling? When is she coming to visit us?” “Mother she is busy in London.” “Too busy to visit her beau and his family?” “I have yet to read her letter.” “I’m sorry, I’ll give you some time to read.” She gathered him up into an earnest embrace, kissing him softly on the cheek, he closed his eyes to fully enjoy her closeness, it made him feel secure like he had as a small child when his mother had fussed over him from when he awoke in the morning until she tucked him into bed at night, he hoped they would always be this way. She reluctantly pulled away from him, smiling as she walked away probably in search of his father so that she could berate him about their son and his absentee admirer whom she desperately wanted to meet so she could be sure they were right for her Oswald. 

Oswald clutched the letter close to his chest as he made his way to his rooms so he could pour over the letter in private. He walked briskly towards his rooms, closed the door tightly behind him and threw himself into his favorite chair by the window. The golden early morning light streaming through the glass lit up the front of the envelope where Oswald could see Miss Thorne’s feminine scrawl bearing his name and address. He wished he could see Herbert’s elegant, slanted loops instead but he still had the crumpled piece of paper that he had once held and written on, it was so worn and faded that Oswald was almost afraid to touch it these days that he had it burned into his memory from hours of study. He knew the words of endearment that he would read on the page and imbue with his own longing were written by the hand of a woman whom he barely knew but they came from the heart of a man whom he felt a great deal for and even though it had never been said he knew they had to be careful and hide behind respectability. He carefully tore open the letter and laid it gently on his lap with trembling fingers, 

‘Dearest Oswald, I hope you are well. Your last letter really touched my heart; I miss you so much every time I close my eyes I see your beautiful smile and I can feel your soft hand clasped within my own. It won’t be long now my darling, our business in London is almost concluded but I fear I will need more of your help, I truly hate to ask but the difference is seeing you in months versus a year or more and I so wish to see you, our time together was so fleeting but I feel so much, imagine if we had all the time in the world, what we could be together. My brother sends his regards, he will hopefully be traveling with me if everything goes well and we can be in Gotham by late October, I’m filled with yearning for you, just to see your blushing face and electric eyes, I will be counting down the days until I can see you again. What do you want to do first? I just want to spend time with you so I leave all arrangements up to you, Gotham is your home and I would love to see all the places that you enjoy so I can see the contentment on your face as I gaze at you in the city that you care for so much. My life has been the monotony of business transactions with the only bright spot seeing a letter from you, hearing about your day as I imagine you living your life even if it is currently devoid of my presence but I resolve that soon that will be a thing of the past so we can spend many wonderful days and secluded nights together just you, me and the moonlight. I wait with bated breath for your next letter my precious Oswald, hopefully with good news and we can finally see each other again, all my love, Irene.’

Excitement bubbled up within Oswald ‘we can be in Gotham by late October’ he couldn’t believe it was so close, he felt shaky with nervous energy, this was everything he wanted he poured his heart and soul into his letters, at this moment in his life they were the only place that he felt truly free to express himself for who he was and he had never felt this way before and even more astonishing to him he had found someone who felt the same way he did. He still had an underlying fear as he knew that their love was frowned upon by polite society, he was anxious about his mother’s reaction if she ever discovered this dark part of him and he was scared of Herbert spending more time with him and deciding that he wasn’t worth it as Herbert was a man of the world and Oswald had barely left his own mother’s embrace.

For now he needed to ask his father for some more money, he’d need to do it quietly as his mother was becoming sceptical but he just needed a small amount in comparison to what they had, Herbert just needed a little extra so he could come sooner and that was all Oswald was concerned about, he had been patient, all this time even though he was nervous he needed to know more than anything. His father never asked what he needed the money for, he just handed it over, anything to make Oswald happy which made him feel a small tinge of shame but he thought if it in terms of it would be his money one day and Herbert did make him happy so he wasn’t really being deceitful. He got up from his chair and walked across the room to the drawer where he kept all the letters, a way to get through the solitary nights that stretched between then and now, carefully placing this new letter in with the others he closed the drawer and headed for the stairs bracing himself for his mother’s inquisitive questions and his father’s discreet bemusement. 

 

“Oswald, darling where are you going at this hour?” Oswald withdrew his hand from the door but he didn’t dare turn to face his mother, “Just out for a stroll.” “At this hour, but it is so dark and cold, come sit with me by the fire.” “I just need some air, I will join you shortly.” He felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder where she squeezed gently before running her hand down his upper arm and back up again. “Please darling, you’ve been so distant this past month, what is wrong?” “Nothing is wrong.” A persistent tug on his arm had him turning towards his mother, he was afraid that if she looked into his eyes she would see all the lies that he has buried deep inside, so he looked just past her as he tried to banish Herbert from his mind all the secret glances and fleeting touches, his soft lips grazing his cheek, whispered reassurances and the stillness of time in his eyes. 

His mother looked intently into his eyes, he could see the worry etched onto her face and felt the shame radiate through him, he never kept any secrets from her or his father, they had always surrounded him with love and given him everything he’d ever wanted and he had never needed anything more until now and it saddened him deeply that he couldn’t share this aspect of his life with them but dread had an icy grip on his heart. His mother stroked his cheek, “Is it because no more letters have come?” Oswald hated himself before the lie had fully formed in his mind, he felt it heavy like a cold, wet stone in his mouth, he had never lied to her until recently and he loathed how easy it had become. 

“I didn’t want to talk about it yet, I just wanted some time to myself.” His mother’s perfume enveloped his mind as she wrapped him up in her arms, warmth radiating from her making him feel sheltered in her affection. “Oh my poor darling, I was concerned that she wasn’t prepared to leave London, you will find another nice girl, here in Gotham, you have plenty of time.” “Thank you, Mother.” “Your father and I, are here for you, won’t you come in by the fire.” “In a little while, I just want some air.” His mother moved back, still holding him by his arms, her piercing stare made Oswald feel sweat prickle on his forehead, he could see how desperately she wanted to push the issue, under any other circumstances he would crumble under her concern but he couldn’t miss the limited time he had with Herbert so he pushed his guilt down deep into the pit of his stomach. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant, I just need a little time and I promise after dinner tomorrow we can spend some time together, just the three of us.” “Ok darling, wrap up warm and don’t be too long, it’s cold tonight.” Oswald kissed her tenderly on the cheek, “I will.”

 

All Oswald felt was a cold, numbness as though he was attempting to swim through ice; his body was fidgety, as frost seemed to form in his eyelashes. ‘I’m so late, Herbert will not be pleased, damn this cold weather.’ Oswald pulled his coat tighter around him as he made his way to the docks, he wished they could meet somewhere warmer and more private but there was no point in wishing for something that he couldn’t have. They rarely had any privacy at all as Irene had to join them ‘for appearances sake’ and if anyone happened upon them they had to act as a cheerful trio, Oswald didn’t know how to feel about Irene, she could be so enchanting and pleasant towards him but he saw a strain in her smile and sometimes her knuckles were a stark white when she squeezed her hand around Herbert’s arm. ‘She probably struggles with the knowledge that her brother is in love with a man but she puts in a valiant effort to help him’ 

In the distance, he could see two silhouettes standing so close together that the warmth of their breath formed a vast glacial cloud in front of them. It was so cold down here by the water, they must be huddled for warmth, and Oswald couldn’t wait to be gathered intimately to Herbert, to be the one sharing heat with him. As he readied himself to acknowledge them he realized that something wasn’t quite right so he closed his mouth abruptly and made his breathing shallow so as not to alert them to his presence. As he stepped closer he saw Irene’s face gazing lovingly at Herbert’s, her lips moving as she whispered something sweet and soft directly on his enticing lips. As her eyes closed over in pleasure Oswald felt his heart sealed over in torment, ’there has to be an innocent explanation for this… no, what a fool I’ve been, it should have been obvious, why would he choose me?’ A piercing pain erupted in Oswald’s chest so formidable that he doubled over, ‘of all the ways that I imagined that I would die I would never have guessed it would be a broken heart by the docks.’ An almost hysterical laugh shattered the silence of the world around him and Oswald was shocked to realize it had come from him and that it felt like a thousand tiny daggers stabbing into the flesh of his throat. 

“Oswald?” Herbert appeared in front of him with a puzzled look on his face that only made Oswald laugh harder until stinging tears were running down his cheeks. ‘My precious Oswald’ What possible reason could they have for having treated him so callously, to pull him along by the heartstrings making him feel that someone loved him, even if it was forbidden and clandestine, that they yearned for him the same way he did for them, to be seen and understood. He looked searchingly at Herbert, deep into those beautiful eyes he’d got lost in so many times, he was willing to debase himself if only for a sliver of that adoration he’d seen before but the truth shone bright and they were vibrant in his eyes outshining the sinister lies of before. “What’s wrong, darling?” As Oswald stared he saw the uncertainty creep into Herbert’s expression, he had to know that Oswald had seen but like a true schemer, he would use sleight of hand to gloss over reality. 

‘Money’ whispered through Oswald consciousness, he couldn’t believe he had been so foolish, from the third letter Herbert had requested money, not much at first but it had increased along with his fondness. All this for cold lifeless things like money, money could be gained through so many different avenues but to play with people’s affections and hearts was inhumane. Oswald closed his eyes, he didn’t want to see Herbert anymore, he didn’t want to be here, he wished he could reverse time and when he opened his eyes he’d see his mother smiling as she worked on her embroidery by the fire, could hear her humming a melodic tune, the rustle of paper as his father turned a page in his book feeling warm and content. 

A sharp tug on his shoulder dragged him back to this cold harsh reality; he looked down at the gloved hand that held so tightly onto his shoulder then back up into Herbert’s perplexed expression and Oswald felt the anger that burned like acid through his lungs setting a fire in his heart.

“Oswald, what is wrong?” Rage at Herbert, Irene, squandered time, the deceitfulness that had flowed from his mouth spoiling his relationship with his mother but most of all at himself, that furious, obscure part of himself that blamed him for his naivety, his impetuousness, that he was so easy to manipulate all it took was a little affection and a few honeyed correspondences. His arm shot out and slapped Herbert’s hand away from him, his touch made Oswald’s skin crawl, how had he ever felt any warmth towards this person, ‘I’m sure they laughed all the way to the bank at poor pathetic little Oswald, so desperate for love that he’d pay for it.’ He felt his blood freeze as he realized that he was an unlovable deviant, who would probably die alone having never experienced love as he knew that he wasn’t very charismatic or handsome, ‘only mother thinks so.’ 

Herbert’s finger stroking along his cheek made Oswald realize that he had fallen down a dark rabbit hole in his mind, Herbert’s finger was cold and smooth, “Why are you crying my darling?” Oswald took a step back, “Don’t touch me.” Herbert’s confused eyes looked over Oswald’s shoulder, ‘looking for reassurance from your accomplice, what is she to you?’ “Why?” Oswald moved forward, he moved his face as close to Herbert’s as he physically could without touching him, he wanted Herbert’s attention on him one last time as he tried to unnerve him, he desperately wanted Herbert to feel angry and fearful. “Oswald, I don’t understand why you’re upset, I’m the one who’s been waiting here all this time in the cold for you, I’ve been eager to see you all day.” “How foolish do you think I am? Actually, don’t answer that, I don’t care, you will return every penny I have loaned you and leave town.” “I thought the money was a contribution to help me move to here so I could devote more time to you my angel, please don’t be this way… I don’t know what you think you saw but you are mistaken, I only care for you.” 

A spark of fury pulsated through Oswald, he shoved Herbert with the intention of sending him to the ground, he needed to be higher than him, he knew he had the moral high ground but now he wanted the physical one as well so he pushed and pushed until Herbert lost his balance and hit the ground with a thud. “You will return every penny and leave town immediately or I will go to the authorities and tell them you swindled me out of my money with a honey trap using your sister, I have the letters to prove it.” Herbert raised his arms up to shield him from Oswald’s mounting fury, “please, I don’t have that kind of money.” Oswald’s foot connected with Herbert’s side with great force propelled by his anger, Oswald kicked and kicked even as Herbert cried out, curled himself up into a defensive ball before he fell silent and in Oswald’s mind he wondered what sound he would make if Oswald crushed his beautiful hand underneath his heel. 

Harsh blows rained down on Oswald’s back followed quickly by sharp pain, ‘Irene’ Oswald turned to push her away from him but as he turned pain rocketed up his spine to scream in his mind, ‘why is she so strong?’ When Oswald finally faced Irene she was breathing heavily, her hair was wild about her face, her eyes flitted between Oswald and Herbert’s prone form on the cold dock, in her right hand was a knife, slick, grisly and drenched. Oswald felt his clothes stuck to his back, cold and wet, he shivered as his heart started to race, Irene looked back at him as she raised the knife and Oswald without a second thought charged at her, her wild eyes fixated exclusively on him, her breathing increased until it turned into an animalistic snarl. The knife plunged into his shoulder making him scream in agony as his adrenaline made him seize her slender, delicate wrists and slam them down above her head as he climbed on top of her. “You have made it worse now, Irene, I have no choice but to involve the authorities and I wonder…” Pain exploded in Oswald’s leg, he felt the bone shatter, tiny pieces of bone that would join his bloodstream and fuse with the shattered pieces of his heart. Blood dripped down the handle of the knife to land on Irene’s soft, pale neck, Herbert stood slightly hunched over, his hand supporting his ribs as he placed his heavy booted foot back on the ground as Oswald sagged forward letting go of Irene’s wrists to support his own weight. 

Cool condensation, splintered wood under his numbing fingertips, harsh breathing filling his mind as his pulse fluttered in his throat, coldness creeping over his skin as he felt a profound exhaustion envelope him as his eyelids drooped. He felt so out of control with anger and fatigue, fighting for dominance in his mind, ‘why do I always let my emotions get the better of me? If I had only walked away… just going to close my eyes for a moment… then I can… Just one moment… figure everything out… in a rational matter…’ An earth-shattering wail broke the lethargic ramblings of Oswald’s mind before a searing shock of pain radiated out from Oswald’s chest, his eyes shot open to focus on Irene’s wrathful eyes, her mouth forged into a spiteful snarl and her white-knuckled grip on the handle of the knife that she had gouged into Oswald’s vulnerable chest. In a final surge of vigor, he raised his hand and struck her sharply across her twisted, cruel mouth then slithered backward onto his shattered leg to escape before he became irreparably damaged by her hatred. 

Fuelled purely by the aching that consumed his body and the desperation of his mind, he crawled away from her and back onto the solid bulk of Herbert which made him freeze in shock, before he felt hands, the hands he’d dreamed of holding his own, touching his face, ‘I just want to go home… sleep but how will I explain this to mother? She’ll worry… I’m a full grown man’ Herbert dragged Oswald across the ground as though he were made of nothing more substantial than air “Please… Don’t… Keep money.” Oswald thought about his ruined suit that his father had made for him, finished it not that long ago, looking down at him from the little stool he stood on, the only time he could look down at his father, watching his intense concentration, feel his fingers run over the fabric as he scrutinised the fit and stitches before finally smiling at Oswald, ‘You look so handsome, my boy this fabric was a good choice, your mother will be so proud.’ His father’s pleased regard melted away as he felt another rip in his clothes open wider with the force of Herbert wrenching him across the dock. 

Everything stopped, the wind swirling icily past his ears, the frosty spray of the water at the edge of the dock and the bleakness of the dark night sky felt dreamlike as though he were standing on a boat in the bay observing all from a distance. Hushed voices permeated his consciousness, their words sound foreign to him, otherworldly with rasping vowels and hissing constantans, which cease abruptly when he coughed his mouth filling with the taste of old pennies. “Knife… authorities… him or us… blood… water…” A dull ache pervaded in his chest forcing his attention on Herbert kneeling in front of him, he couldn’t make eye contact with him and had a bloodied knife held limply in his hand before Irene leaned into view to pull it from his frail hand, then whispered softly in his ear as her steely eyes found Oswald’s. An opaque smog was filling his mind as his body slowly turned into a lump of unresponsive clay not quite moulded into a man yet, his breathing was a grating rasp as he couldn’t get a full breath past the blood filling his lungs like a tar pit, he was drowning all alone with only hatred and desperation for company.

Irene’s pale, delicate fingers caressed lovingly over Herbert’s face, she spoke softly to him then with a tender kiss on his lips she walked away, outside the distorted edges of Oswald’s vision. Hands on either side of his shoulders, lifting him up onto Herbert’s square shoulder, he was so warm it made Oswald gasp slightly and despite himself burrow closer, he smelled of his usual aftershave a subtle masculine scent, he was life and Oswald was too close to death. “I’m sorry.” So soft Oswald didn’t know if he imagined it or it was truly uttered before he realised he was no longer feeling the warmth from Herbert, sailing through the cold air jostling his injured leg which made him gain the energy of one last struggle for life before it was stolen by the shock of the ice-cold water. 

A thousand hot needles stabbed his skin over every inch of his body, his mouth opened in a tormented shout, suffocated by the sullied water, bitter and toxic as it poured down his throat and it’s icy touch absorbed into his teeth, his jaw, the bones in his face making them feel like they were going to shatter like delicate ice sculptures dropped from a great height. The water filling his body weighed him down causing him to descend into the deep, dark water until all he could see was an impenetrable blackness, he felt like he was suspended in time, there was nothing but misery.

He remembered the excitement he felt when a new letter would arrive, the feeling of the paper in his fingers, the comfort of his favorite chair with the light streaming in through the window or by warm candlelight when re-reading covertly at night, just for the indulgence of how the words made him feel. That strange combination of guilt and pleasure at having something that was purely his, he shared everything with his mother and father and he loved doing so but not this. Love, once he’d discovered it had been an exhilarating experience, the poetry, music and plays he had always loved had an extra special layer that he felt had been hidden from him for so long but now he could fully understand them, it was like finally understanding French, he could hear people speak it and understand exactly what they were communicating, the beauty of it, the musicality without having to wait on a translator to give their interpretation of it. 

He had so much to give, he felt once that fire had been lit it burned brightly within him, he wanted everything that love had to offer from it’s passion to its comfort, he wanted to be like his parents moving like everything has always been that way and you understand and support the other without thought, they are just a part of you. Now that someone who held no affection for him only for his money had extinguished that fire, it had been smothered by the hatred of a woman who had been instrumental in his demise and drowned by the dark, dirty water of his beloved Gotham. Those words that had brought him so much joy now poured salt into the many wounds that adorned his fragile heart, ‘I miss you so much every time I close my eyes I see your beautiful smile’ How could he have been so blind, so foolish but most of all he mourned for loss of his chance at a happy life filled with love from the person who would truly love him and his mother and father, he knew that his mother’s heart would end up just like his own, fractured, like a puzzle with pieces that were forever lost. His father was a gentle soul, Oswald didn’t want to imagine what this would do to him, he could see him retreating into himself while trying to be strong for his mother and if he had the strength he would cry adding to the water suffocating him for this terrible tragedy he would put them through, ‘wrap up warm and don’t be too long, it’s cold tonight.’

Rage hot, thick and oozing like lava spewing up from the deepest pit of his stomach pumping up to create a river of burning fire directly into his heart spreading out like a virus through his veins to his lungs, liver and every organ in his body. Burning with the intensity of the sun until the anger ate up every aspect of Oswald Cobblepot leaving behind a burnt out, dried up, deformed husk that felt nothing but raw anguish and a voracious appetite for vengeance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title is taken from the poem "Two Loves" by Lord Alfred Douglas, published in 1894


	2. But For Me The Spring Is Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the time of the Great Depression Oswald has been left all alone with nothing but his rage and a craving for vengeance. When he crosses paths with a young singer torn between love and possession he manipulates his way into her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed so please excuse all my mistakes.

Gotham, 1936 

Cold, dark and distressingly silent, years had passed since the rooms had had a warm glow, delighted laughter or the sweet smell of perfume his mother always favored, all that remained was stale dampness and a dense layer of dust. The windows obscured the red glow from the setting sun behind a thick curtain of grime casting the rooms in a shadowy grey hue making Oswald think back to the gothic horror novels he’d once devoured on cold moonlit evenings. Heaviness settled deep into Oswald’s chest, this was no longer a home it was a tomb. 

Dust coated his lungs as he walked up the rickety stairs towards his old rooms, past the dusty and broken pictures adorning the walls that lined the staircase. The floor was slippery beneath his feet, the door to his rooms was closed over outlined in a blinding red glow from the sun, and the brass doorknob had a thin, wispy layer of dust upon it when he ran his finger over it. He felt as insignificant as a specter, condemned to haunt his old home, to see the devastated life he left behind believing that the grass was greener on the other side only to discover that it had been infested and was golden and lifeless. His favorite chair was still situated by the window, bathed in the morning light with a small stack of his favorite books piled on the table beside it. He settled into the long-vacant chair and took in the rest of the room; whereas the rest of the house was a mausoleum this room was a memorial, one he was unworthy of. His eyes filled with unbearably hot tears as he thought of his poor grieving mother, setting up his things, keeping the room neat and clean, hoping for his safe return, her resolve slowly turning to heartbreak and moving from keeping it pristine for him to preserving his memory until that grief slowly killed her as his father was powerless to help before time and sorrow claimed them both. 

The fury that flowed through his veins and kept his heart beating swelled within him until he felt as though his eyes burned with the hatred he felt deep inside. Time and fury were all he had left. He wanted to destroy something, someone, their happiness everything they held sacred in life. He wanted someone else to be burdened with this pain of loss, frustrated at the loss of potential and the lonely despair of knowing they couldn’t have love in their life before everything was gone. 

 

She glowed as though she were a porcelain statue reflecting the lights from the stage, her eyes sparkled like priceless sapphires, soft lips parted singing a sweet melody as her body moved sinuously in front of the microphone as though she could read all the thoughts of the eyes that tracked her every move. Oswald looked around the room, watching all the men who only had eyes for her, looking for a hint of perceived possession or genuine affection. Several of the men were hungry like untamed wolves they only wanted an insubstantial meal nothing meaningful but two sets of eyes were different, subtly with one softened in affection and the other hardened challenge. Oswald looked back at the stage at the woman capturing everyone’s attention; with the sway of her hips and the sparkle in her eye, she hid her true intentions behind the smoke and mirrors of her act. He would have to bide his time, immerse himself in this new environment, the sounds of charmed laughter, vulgar music and the stench of alcohol mixing with cloying perfume, heavy tobacco, and sickly sweat were making him feel nauseous but the need to destroy someone’s joy of life, love seared through him. 

The song ended momentarily plunging the room into silence and darkness which settled Oswald’s nerves until applause erupted from every corner of the room, the blinding light on the stage ignited lighting up her joyous expression which flicked from the man with affectionate eyes to land on the man with hardness in his. The jewels around her neck shone like twinkling stars on a cloudless night as she slinked off the stage, the man stood surrounded by similarly dressed men who looked towards him as he raised a glass to her, they hastily followed suit. She smiled widely at the gesture accepting a glass of sparkling champagne with a bashful lowering of her eyes, she was like a beautiful iridescent opal laying on the dirty ground surrounded by disease-ridden rats who couldn’t sully her magnificence even though they coveted it for their own. Oswald’s attention was once again pulled towards the man who sat in the back, partially hidden in shadow who looked at the scene before him, lowering his eyes then gulping back his drink as though he needed it more than the air in the room. Oswald couldn’t smell despair but he knew right now that the man at the back of the club would be drenched in it if he could, it would smell like fading perfume and the alcohol on his breath. 

 

After several hours of observing the small party by the stage, Oswald knew that the woman was an ostentatious prize that the middle-aged man with the receding hairline, tailored suit, and extravagant gestures was displaying as an extension of his power over the people around him. She was as important as his gold watch, the expensive drinks that littered the table or the money that he shoved into the pockets of those whom he believed owed him awe. She was only a token of his status, a thing that others wanted but couldn’t have. Oswald watched her smile, stroke her fingers coquettishly over his arm, and accept his drinks with detached gratitude as though she was used to receiving gifts from him, this act had become routine for her. He was so absorbed in his own grandeur, drunk on his own influence that he didn’t see the strain in her smile, the weight of the jewels around her neck making her weary or the way her eyes would wander to the one thing she desired, the man drowning in his own despair. 

She could have everything she wanted, a man who clearly cared about her whom she cared about in return but she was too greedy; she wanted the glitz, the glamour, and baubles more. She was an insatiable entity that would never be satiated, she would enchant all the men in the room, demand all their fortune, need all their attention but it would never be enough. Her shrill laugh broke through his consciousness like an ice pick through his brain, piercing and painful, he needs to sate this craving for vengeance, women like her took love and life for granted, they shouldn’t.

 

The air was heavy with humidity as the heavens opened to pour rain down onto the streets of Gotham on this unseasonably warm day. Oswald saw the woman dressed more modestly in the daylight with a fur stole wrapped around her shoulders but no umbrella hesitating just inside the store looking fretfully at the gloomy rain clouds. He was waiting for an opportune moment to strike; it had been a long day of shadowing her as she conducted her frivolous business around the city, mainly spending preposterous amounts of money on clothes and trinkets but every time he had been prepared to approach someone else had chosen that moment to attract her attention. It had been an arduous day, for every two steps she took he could only manage one and a half, another by-product of Herbert’s cruelty but the fury that burned through his veins compelled his body forward.

He gripped his umbrella handle tightly, now was the time; he would offer her the courteous protection of his umbrella from the rain. “May I be of some assistance miss?” She turned toward him, face lighting up in a pleasant smile as she leaned her face closer, “Hiya Honey” His heart rate increased as red started to creep into his vision, she smelled sweet, she looked indulgent, warm and inviting and he was already projecting himself into the future when that façade would fracture and the vile truth of life would seep in. “I just thought you might need some assistance due to this dreadful weather.” He moved the umbrella around so that it was more prominent, her smile got wider, “You’re sweet.” She scrutinized his face for a moment, he wasn’t sure what she was looking for but she must have found it because she placed her left hand on his upper arm where the light reflected off a large deep blue sapphire ring on her left ring finger temporarily blinding him. He heard her tinkling laugh, “It matches my eyes.” “That it does my dear.” 

 

The club was filled to the brim with people silhouetted by subdued lighting, people sitting close together speaking occasionally in hushed voices but the main attraction was on the stage in an elegant gown; with her jewels sparkling like stars reflecting tiny rainbows on her face enthralling the audience, her singing and sensual aura hypnotising all the eyes in the room into a dream-like state. Oswald knew objectively that she was beautiful, warm and charismatic but everything about her left him cold except when it made him feel irrationally incensed, but now rage was an emotion he understood, it made him feel more human. He sat near the back in what had swiftly become his regular table for the past several nights he sipped from his cold champagne observing the people around him but his attention was riveted by the man with the soft eyes who sat at the same table every night fixated on the stage nursing the same drink for hours at a time. 

Two robust men suddenly appeared at Oswald’s table, they sat down one at Oswald’s side and the other in front of him blocking his view of the stage. “The boss wants to have a word with you little man.” The rage that was nestled deep within Oswald started to rise but outwardly he became slightly timid and apologetic, “I’m sorry, gentlemen, I don’t understand.” The man to his side moved closer to Oswald and put his large hand on his shoulder, ”a little birdy told us that you were hanging around with the boss’s girl.” The man in front of him leaned over the table so close to Oswald’s face that he could smell his tobacco-tinged skin, “and he don’t like that, so it’s time for a chat.” Oswald kept quiet but slowly lowered his eyes, these pathetic excuses for humanity didn’t know what he was capable of but the wrath he felt was insatiable and he had already chosen the person who would sate it, for now, it would be so much sweeter with the added manipulative pretext. 

He was grabbed by the arm and abruptly hauled to his feet, “let’s go, the boss is waiting.” Oswald was dragged over to the table directly in front of the stage which he knew very well as the table of the man with the hard eyes which was occupied by the usual well-dressed men, bottles of alcohol littered the table and through the cloud of smoke there sat the man holding court as Oswald was shoved in front of them only to be ignored was like a dour jester. Finally the man looked directly into Oswald’s face with his hardened stare commanding his presence despite the busy club ambiance, his voice was raspy almost soft as though he never had occasion to raise his voice, “You must be new here but my name is Maroni and I own this city and everything that’s in it.” He turns towards the stage almost dismissing Oswald, then he felt a hand pressed hard into his back and another grasp his arm to pull him into the chair beside Maroni. For several minutes Oswald was made to sit with the glares of all the men at the table burning into him as Maroni watched the stage, “ain’t she beautiful,” he raised a glass to the stage and received a salacious wink in return.

Oswald was not impressed by this thuggish display of possessive male dominance, the old him would have been terrified, tried to reason with them and would have walked away with barely a word but times had changed. His need to devastate was too strong and now their attempts to intimidate him were pitiful, he almost relished it as it gave him further justification for what would eventually transpire but for now he had a part to play. 

Maroni clasped his large, meaty hand round the base of Oswald’s neck pulling him closer towards his face, “I don’t know who you think you are but this has to stop, I know you think Babs likes you but the truth is she’s a bleeding heart and she feels sorry for all the pathetic strays in Gotham.” His fingers squeezed into the flesh of Oswald’s throat; at any other time they would have left a mark but not anymore as his warm, alcohol-soaked breath left a faint layer of condensation on Oswald’s cool skin, “all animals need to know their place especially the runts, everybody’s gotta take a beating once in a while to toughen them up otherwise something really bad might happen to them.” 

A soft, melodic tune filled the air around them, the kind of song you’d imagine a mother humming for her baby as she cradles them close to her before bedtime, one she would fill with love and warmth so the baby knew it was secure. Bab’s singing, the sounds of the crowded club all slowly faded into the background as though they were happening in the building next door. It was gentle but enthralling, you felt as though you’d heard it before and needed to remember how it went. The melody transported you back to when you were younger, carefree, surrounded by love with no responsibilities, how seductive it was to not worry about the future or what had transpired in the past only the present mattered and you were happy and safe. 

Oswald removed Maroni’s hand from his throat, he looked at the men around the table with their eyes glazed over before he focused his attention on Maroni, such a simple man he barely had to exert any influence at all but it was time to put this wretched charade to rest, he had more important matters to attend to and Maroni would get his turn. Oswald fell silent once more, he felt the warmth leave him again as all the men turned towards him once more with their eyes back in reality before Maroni clapped him on the shoulder then motioned to the man on the other side of Oswald, “Antony, don’t be rude to my new friend pour him a drink, what’s your poison, Oswald?”

 

The rest of 1936 went by in a haze of delicate perfume, furs that tickled his nose with warm embraces from the woman whom everyone called Babs ‘everyone does Honey.’ Since his impromptu meeting with Maroni it seemed the woman was kept like a precious jewel in an ivory tower, everyone was encouraged to crave this beautiful artifact but only Maroni could touch, anyone else who got too close generally disappeared with the exception of Oswald. He had become like a curator at a museum, he kept the artifact safe, preserved it and paraded it around for others to look at from a safe distance. The man with the soft eyes was always ensconced in the shadows of that safe distance but Oswald always felt his presence and from the discreet glances that the woman always gave in his direction, she did too. 

Fresh pine, sparkling light reflecting off tinsel, perfectly wrapped packages and the pop of champagne as the woman hummed a melancholy tune with a shadowed look in her eyes. Maroni was spending the day with his family, as ‘Christmas was a time for family baby, you understand.’ Oswald watched her lying on the couch in her pale blue silk pajamas, completely ignoring the huge pile of gifts under the tree as she sipped her chilled drink out of a little glass. The jarring ring of the doorbell shattered the somber mood, she looked up from her glass at Oswald, “Would you mind Honey I’m not dressed for visitors.”

Oswald walked down to the door of the apartment wondering who it could be as Maroni was the only frequent visitor here and he had a key, usually barging in whenever he felt like it, as he owned everything within those walls. Upon opening the door Oswald wrapped his jacket a little closer around his neck as he had become accustomed to the blazing heat from the fire and the icy chill of the December air made him feel momentarily cold. The space in front of the door was empty with the exception of a small rectangular package wrapped in plain brown paper that sat almost expectantly on the cold doorstep. Oswald could feel heavy eyes on him as he bent to retrieve it, he had a momentary thought to throw it out into the snow knowing that it would cause a sharp but ultimately unsatisfactory pain to the person in the shadows so he scooped it up into his hand and closed the door behind him.

Oswald walked back into the cozy room but the woman barely spared him a glance from the enthralling dance of the bubbles from within her glass as she held it up to catch the light. “Who was it?” “No one just a package abandoned on the doorstep.” She left out a long sigh as she swirled her drink, “from Maroni?” “No, it lacks his ostentatious flair.” He noticed that she took her eyes away from the drink for the first time since he’d come back and subtly straightened her shoulders, “well don’t keep me in too much suspense.” Oswald produced the package from behind his back, it was plain slightly damp all in all completely unremarkable but the woman reacted to it as though it held all the secrets of the universe. Her eyes ignited up with delight, her face took on a delicate luminosity and her hands seized the package from Oswald’s grip in a timely fashion like a cat with a doomed mouse. 

Strips of paper flew through the air until the larger box revealed a much smaller, simple wooden box then everything in the room froze, the very air seemed to grow heavy with anticipation as she stared at the box as though she could already see what was inside but still couldn’t believe it was real even though she held it within her hand. Finally, it became too much and she pulled the lid from the box, Oswald couldn’t see what was inside she was being very protective of it but her enchanted response of bright eyes and a wide smile gave him an indication. 

After a lifetime of enchanted appreciation, she asked softly, “Ozzie, have you ever been in love?” Oswald’s entire being broke out in icy, irritable goosebumps as his mind filled with a dark, gelatinous revulsion that dripped down his spine until it gradually filled his body and he wanted to spit the surplus into her face and watch it obscure her wistful expression. “No.” “Maybe you’re the lucky one, it’s not like the songs and movies would have you believe, well it hasn’t been for me anyway.” She reached into the box and pulled out a small simple silver band, then she pulled the large sapphire she wore on her left ring finger off and threw it behind her as though it was out of sight out of mind. When she slipped the silver ring on in its place she flexed her fingers once admiring it on her hand before smiling sadly and bringing that hand close to her chest. The crackling of the fire was the only sound for several minutes before she started to hum a tune that spoke of spring, new beginnings and contentment then she turned to Oswald and smiled and inside Oswald seethed but outwardly he mirrored her quiet happiness. 

When Maroni’s associates came to escort her to the club to celebrate the New Year the sapphire was firmly back on her left finger but now it had a clandestine companion, which blended perfectly with the band and was hidden under the shadow of the garish ring. 

 

Oswald had grown weary of this charade, he could already taste the vengeance that his heart desired but the time wasn’t quite right and he wanted to savor the moment properly. With his gentle song, he had begun to appropriate Maroni’s criminal empire as a way to pass the time and Maroni’s lifeless, water-bloated corpse no longer needed well anything so with his own brand of persuasion he had positioned a disposable puppet to control the hive from within. He was surprised to find that all this manipulation and murder brought him a feeling he once would have called joy but he couldn’t remember the emotion fully but at least it passed the time and the faint persistent ticking of a clock followed Oswald day to day time had become his enemy.

 

The woman still sang at the club nightly but without Maroni’s heavy shadow she had begun to meet the man with the soft eyes secretly after every show. With the delicate bloom of love, she transformed from a marble statue to a sprightly nymph with happiness alight in her smile, a dance in her step and a melody in her heart. Her joy burned brightly like the sun every time she entered a room making the very air warm and radiant with the scent of fresh spring flowers, it made Oswald’s skin crawl, his nose itch even his teeth felt like they were decaying within his mouth, every moment with her was like an eternity in purgatory. Yet he waited, he wanted her to envision her life spread out in front of her with the man by her side, everything surrounded by a soft rose-tinted glow as they moved together in a harmonious dance filled with adoration, companionship, and expectation. Their entire perfect lives awaited them, then Oswald would strike and squash every last piece of hope completely devastating them before he extinguished the light of their very existence finally satisfying the rage within. 

 

The suns early light was hidden behind thick grey clouds on a cold overcast morning making the murky water at Gotham’s harbor look more ominous than usual. The air was still, silent with the exception of a haunting lullaby that seemed to suspend time. Oswald’s song flowed over the man filling up his ears with a melodic tune that spoke of fulfilling all his dreams and desires as he wadded into the icy water completely entranced. Oswald closed his eyes to wallow in the rage within that he transformed into a beautiful lullaby that flowed from his heart to fill the mind of the recipient placing them in a dreamlike state that suited Oswald’s purposes which right now was to destroy this man in order to crush all the delusions of the woman to placate his anger. Time was finally up Irene would have to pay for everything she’d put him through then Oswald could rest.

“Jim!” A shrill shriek shattered the peaceful serene morning taking Oswald’s attention away from his task to see the woman standing behind him her face motionless with shock with frantic eyes staring intently at the man. Oswald turned his attention back to the man as pride swelled within him, everything was working out perfectly. A sharp searing pain shot through his neck as his song quickly became gurgled through the hot sticky blood filling his mouth. Oswald turned to see the woman holding a jagged broken bottle covered in deep red before he fell to the ground feeling cold and alone. 

Time seemed to pass in fragments as his world grew dimmer, the sounds of the water, the couple’s voices even the birds in the sky becoming muffled and distorted. Oswald pulled himself up onto all fours his body was cold, his limbs numb and he valiantly tried to ignore the blue tinge in his fingers and the rapidly cooling blood dripping off his chin. He crawled towards the woman’s legs even through his blurring vision he could see that she was distracted, pulling the man from the glacial water. He reared up suddenly and pushed her over the dock into the water, he knew the cold would stun her momentarily and that was all he needed to strike. With an ear-splitting scream followed by the sound of her body hitting the water, Oswald felt his body grow lethargic, he wanted nothing more than to rest for a short while but he knew that his time was running out.

Oswald heard the crack before a dull ache exploded through his head, he looked up through the blood pouring into his eyes to see the man looming over him looking wet, cold but determined with a fierce hatred in his eyes and a large bloodstained rock clenched in his fist. Oswald stared defiantly into his hate-filled eyes for several moments before the man’s heavy shoe connected with his face knocking Oswald down onto the hard dock seemingly for the last time. The man then turned hurriedly to pull the woman from the water, he pulled her close to him, giving her a delicate kiss to the forehead and whispering what Oswald assumed were reassurances into her ear before they both turned to regard Oswald’s prone form, Oswald turned away from them in disgust. 

“Jim we should leave please!” “No Barbara don’t you see that he’s an unholy monster we have to stop him before he hurts someone else.” Oswald felt hot hands grab his cold clammy face and using his last ounce of energy he surged forward to seal his bloody lips over the man’s soft mouth to suck his tantalizing vitality. Warmth seeped into Oswald’s bones as once vibrant blue eyes turned glassy with horror as strong fingers clawed along Oswald’s collar pulling the blood-drenched fabric crooked. Desperation increased as his frantic fingers started to spasm as his hands began to fall away as though forced down by an invisible burden. Oswald felt a strong vibration through his teeth where his lips muffled a desperate death wail that crawled its way up the man’s throat past his hollowing cheeks as his waning strength turned his frantic struggles into dying spasms. The youthful visage of a man in the blossom of love aged ten years for each passing second, mummifying his face in terror. 

Oswald pulled back from him gasping for air as his body was mending itself but he still felt weak and knew he was in a vulnerable position so he glanced at the woman but her face was shadowed with disbelief and heartache as she looked upon the dried up husk of her former beau. A small shred of compassion peeked out from underneath the darkness in Oswald’s soul, a tiny sliver of understanding, he didn’t want to be this destructive force as he knew how soul-crushingly painful it felt to have even the idea of love stolen from you leaving you all alone in the world. This feeling was quickly snuffed out like a candle in the wind as Oswald knew he was on borrowed time especially if she renewed her efforts to destroy him so he crawled towards the water quickly diving in while she was distracted, he was in no position to entice her as he’d originally planned he’d let the shattered remains of her dream permeate her mind, swallowing it up into despair so cavernous and homogenous that she could never escape it, that would have to suffice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title is taken from the poem May by Sara Teasdale


	3. Beauty Is Like Remembrance, Cast, From Time Long Past.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As time passes Oswald remains the same but a woman who reminds him of his tragic past leads to a chance at companionship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed so please excuse all my mistakes.

Gotham, 1958

The night air was tranquil, the only sounds being the gentle drizzle of the rain hitting off umbrellas, the clicking of heels as they hit against the damp pavement and hushed conversation shielded from the world by a black umbrella. The young couple walked arm in arm towards the woman’s apartment after her partner had so graciously escorted her from work protecting her new coat from the rain and ensuring her protection from any unruly characters through his stature and impeccably kept police officers uniform. 

Their quiet conversation on dinner for the evening was abruptly interrupted by a loud threatening voice erupting from a slender disheveled man whose gun reflected the small amount of moonlight that permeated through the thick clouds covering Gotham. The man in the police uniform seized the woman’s arm harshly pulling her over to the side and depositing her onto the sidewalk with a suppressed yelp before turning back to the man. Speaking softly and advancing slowly he suddenly punched the slight man in the face sending him to the wet ground before the brutality really began and from his space in the shadows, Oswald could see genuine happiness creep onto his face as his knuckles grew pink and blood washed away in the rain. 

 

The first time Oswald had seen her, his heart had felt as though it were beating in his head and he was transported back to a chilly night on a dock with a blonde woman staring hatefully into his eyes. ‘Irene?’ Oswald felt compelled to follow her it almost felt predestined, she created a chill down his spine like she was the ghost of his past here to punish him for his past transgressions. 

Perfectly coiffed blonde hair, sparkling green eyes with a warm magnetic personality and a lot of patience she appeared to endear everyone who wandered into her orbit especially among the bibliophiles in Gotham searching for adventure, love or knowledge within the pages of a book. She was stylishly attired at all times, orderly like the shelves at the library with a routine that went like clockwork. Men were particularly impressed by her efforts but she kept most of them at arm's length from her co-workers to costumers even the man who visited her every day at lunch with a nervous longing in his eyes.

Oswald had started to believe that she was determined to be alone until one day he saw her leave the library on a chilly evening only to be greeted by a tall brutish looking man in a police uniform who walked up to her and draped his arm around her shoulders accompanying her home. Soon his indelible shadow was cast over many aspects of her life, he even started visiting her at lunchtime much to the utter disappointment of her now ridiculed lunchtime companion.

After much consideration, Oswald decided he would test this man’s commitment in his own way so he hummed a tune for a small-time crook to encourage him to harass the couple on their way home and while enlightening it didn’t provide him with much information on their relationship so it was time to introduce himself. 

 

“It’s so sad Edward, she’s all alone in the world.” “Well, she has me.” “Yes she does, it’s so selfless of you to sit with her but she reminds me of poor Miss Havisham, it’s awfully heart-breaking what happened.” Oswald watched as the young thin man blushed and stuttered an almost wordless response to her praise as she gave him a kind smile. ‘Pathetic.’ “Oh look at the time I’m sorry but I need to return to work.” She rose from her chair putting her lunch things away as the young man looked on awkwardly then followed suit, he lingered in the doorway as she turned away from him before finally stepping back out onto the street. Oswald turned his attention to the woman as she made her way toward a shelf near the back of the library.

“I’m sorry to bother you my dear but I was looking for a particular play by Oscar Wilde.” She turned towards him and Oswald was again transported back to a fateful day in London politely engaging in conversation surrounded by London’s elite. She smiled kindly at him but rather than put him at ease it made him feel an emotion akin to dread. “Which one were you enquiring about sir?” In that moment Oswald started to sing it hadn’t been his intention to do so, it had just come innately to him and he knew at that moment that this was the only way to gain her trust. Her kind smile slowly slipped into a dazed expression as she awaited what he required of her so he thought of the heartfelt, innocent radiance of friendship and watched her eyes light up.

 

After several weeks of inane conversation pointed insults from the brutish man and watching the thin man trying in vain to capture the woman’s attention Oswald was uninterested in this entire situation. He realized fairly quickly that Isabella wouldn’t be like his previous victims, as he didn’t see an affectionate attachment between her and the brutish man known as officer Dougherty, it was more proprietorial. He could see her give an almost infinitesimal flinch every time Dougherty’s touch or person was in close proximity. This boorish attitude extended to everyone within her company, which in Oswald’s experience was Edward, the lovelorn fool and him. Edward displayed a resigned painful embarrassment every time he was subjected to Dougherty’s insults, looming presence and sharp shoves that sent him almost sprawling on the ground. 

Edward cut such a pitiable figure, he was tall but physically weak, so eager to please but incredibly socially awkward that most people lost patience with him quickly everyone except Isabella who was able to engage with him on a different level, she showed interest in his topics and always had time for him. Oswald agreed with the rest of humanity but Edward wasn’t worthy of his time, he wouldn’t have spent any with him only he followed Isabella around like a wretched puppy so Oswald thought of him as a penance for what had to transpire. 

On this particular afternoon, they were gathered in the lunchroom at the library, which was no bigger than a closet with a small table and three chairs. Isabella was letting Edward ramble on about some topic that Oswald had tuned out several minutes ago when a shadow fell over the doorway. Dougherty lumbered into the room heading straight for Isabella placing his hand on her shoulder when he reached her. The room fell silent broken only by Dougherty himself, “Hey little man how about giving the more important man in her life your seat, some of us have to work for a living.” Oswald looked at him with hardened eyes, “I think a better idea would be if you went back to work and let us continue our conversation.” Isabella and Edward both looked at him in disbelief before his vision was again obscured by Dougherty’s quickly reddening face, “What did you say to me?” “Tom, please, take my seat.” “Be quiet this is between me and your little friend here.” In the corner of his eye, Oswald could see Edward had started to shake with what appeared to either be panic or a repressed desire to take action but being caught in a feedback loop of indecision. 

Oswald internally sighed then rose to his feet, looking into Dougherty’s eyes he could see triumph start seep in before Oswald walked into his personal space in a very clear expression of dominance, “Go ahead and try and take my seat.” Shock quickly masked Dougherty’s anger before Oswald started to hum gently, “go back to work officer Dougherty.” Without another word he turned and exited the room as quickly as he’d entered leaving two of the occupants shocked in stilted silence.

 

The following day Oswald arrived at the library to find Edward nervously loitering outside the building, he really hoped he wasn’t going to embarrass himself at lunch with a not so subtle hint about his feelings again Oswald didn’t think he could stomach that particular display again. He feared if he rolled his eyes that hard again he would spend the rest of his life having to look out the back of his skull. A huge smile lit up Edward’s face as he spotted Oswald’s approach, “Good afternoon Mr. Cobblepot.” Oswald grunted in response, he didn’t have the energy for Edward today, he was like an excitable puppy that had learned a new trick and desperately wanted a treat in appreciation of his efforts but Oswald was wondering why he was still here.

The short walk to the lunchroom was filled with Edward’s ceaseless chatter about a wide range of topics that varied wildly from one second to the next as Oswald tried distractedly to tune him out when Edward placed a gentle hand on his shoulder bringing him unerringly into sharp focus before he quickly removed it. “I hope this isn’t out of line Mr. Cobblepot but I just wanted to say that yesterday… how you handled the entire situation with Officer Dougherty was simply magnificent, I could never do anything like that but you… you were so… fearless.” Edward was simmering with pent-up nervous energy, his eyes were shining and he had a rosy hue to his cheeks and Oswald realized with great surprise that in that moment Edward admired him and it left Oswald completely astonished. “Oswald, Edward, coffee?” Isabella’s cheerful tone broke the spell and Edward walked into the lunchroom as though he was walking on enchanted air with Oswald following closely behind at a sedate pace with his feet firmly on the ground. 

The lunchtime visits became much more serene after that, there had been a change in dynamic with Edward who now tried valiantly to engage Oswald in conversation in-between bombarding Isabella with seemingly all the knowledge he possessed while trying to captivate her with adoration in his smile. Isabella effortlessly kept the balance between them by reining Edward in when she could see Oswald reaching the end of his tether. Dougherty didn’t make another appearance Oswald had made sure of that; the one error he had made was only keeping him away from the library.

 

A dull thud echoed off the walls in the alley near the police station, hushed voices one in anger, the other in fear, “I’ve seen the way you look at her Ed, beautiful woman like that she needs a real man who can take care of her not a pathetic excuse for one like you,” “Isabella is my friend.” “She just pities you.” Edward’s eyes clouded over in misery, as his face became a mask of poorly disguised anguish, “that’s not true.” A sharp slap knocks his glasses partway down his face before Dougherty grabs his chin to pull his face closer, “I thought you were supposed to be smart but…” Oswald steps out of the shadows, “If you have any brain cells left at all you’ll walk away now.” Dougherty’s hand spasms around Ed’s chin leaving stark white imprints that take a few seconds to disappear as the blood rushes back in. He turns abruptly and walks back towards the police station without a backward glance.

Oswald watches him leave with disdain; Dougherty’s clock has finally rung for the last time and Oswald doesn’t know exactly what he’s going to do but it will be slow and painful of that he is sure. A firm grip on his wrist and he’s being led away swiftly in the opposite direction of the station. “We need to go before he returns with some friends.” Once Ed deems them a safe distance he turns towards Oswald giddy enthusiasm radiating from his every pore before surging forward to wrap Oswald up in a brief but bone-crushing hug. Oswald is shocked into stillness, Edward is so warm, fragile and with a stark clarity, he realizes that it has been a long time since anyone has touched him with genuine fondness. ‘Oh, my poor darling… you have plenty of time.’ Oswald felt loneliness creep into his heart, it had been so long since he’d had companionship, someone he could spend time with and just be himself and he hadn’t comprehended how much he had missed it. He felt as though the dark cloud that surrounded his thoughts lifted a little to allow in a sliver of light. 

“Can I take you for coffee? My treat.” “That’s not necessary.” “Please, it’s the least I can do.” Oswald looks into Edward’s eager face and finds that he just can’t bring himself to decline the invitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title is taken from the poem Time Long Past by Percy Bysshe Shelley


	4. Alone, All Alone Nobody, But Nobody Can Make It Out Here Alone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch with Isabella and Edward reconnects Oswald with his humanity for the first time since the tragedy on the docks. After gaining Edward’s admiration Oswald spends more time in his company and his feelings begin to run deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed so please excuse all my mistakes.

“I can stop by after work if you like?” “Thank you, Edward, but I’ll be fine.” Even though Dougherty had been missing for almost three weeks now his presence still loomed large over the library lunchroom. Isabella seemed resigned to the fact that he was gone for good, at first she had retreated slightly into a self-imposed shell to quietly process what had transpired. She had not voiced how she felt but Oswald could see that she had been affected by what happened, possibly even believed that it was somehow her fault that something about her had driven him away. For the first week, she barely spoke or smiled, the lunchroom filled with Ed’s nervous babbling as he tried in vain to fill the void until Isabella robotically picked up her things to announce the end of lunch. Edward confided in Oswald that he was worried about her, “I wish there was something I could do.”

Slowly as the weeks moved on she thawed becoming more of the earnest vivacious woman she previously was as it became obvious that Dougherty was gone and wasn’t coming back. It started small with her smiling at Edward’s inane one-sided conversation about something called an oscilloscope and tennis for two which Edward was very excited about due to its technological advancements but mostly confused Oswald although he didn’t show it. Edward paused in his rambling to give Isabella a huge smile in return as she asked him, “Why wouldn’t you just play a real game? Seems less complicated” Which started Edward off on an in-depth explanation of the new transistor technology and Oswald turned his mind inward. 

Oswald thought about how irritating Dougherty had become, he was also dispensable as there was very little love between him and Isabella; he treated her like a frustrating possession. He wanted control and through his control, he stifled her personality, she was much more guarded around him and he believed that he had the right to extend that control to the other people around her. It was at times like these that Oswald was glad he had kept control of the criminal underworld in Gotham, a position that brought him a certain degree of fulfillment and in some circles prestige, leftover vanity from his previous life of needing to feel accomplished. A quiet word and a pointed look and Dougherty ceased to exist, it had been that simple and he was so reviled within criminal circles that Oswald secretly wondered how he had survived this long. 

“Oswald? You’re being awfully quiet are you ok?” Oswald looked up into Isabella’s concerned face, “No my dear just thinking.” “Nothing bad I hope” “No just about business matters, nothing important.” She smiled kindly at him and Oswald felt something within him settle, he had been telling himself for the past several weeks that he was just biding his time until she found someone she truly cared about so he could strike but the sentiment was beginning to feel hollow to him.

 

“Mr. Cobblepot, do you want to join me for some dinner around 6:30 pm?” Ed’s face and slightly hunched posture come into view just as Oswald was attempting to enter the library. A bemused smile broke out on Oswald’s face; he and Edward had been meeting regularly outside of the lunch hour since the disappearance of Dougherty. It originally began as a way for Edward to vent about Dougherty and brainstorm ways to support Isabella through this trying time before he gradually started to talk more about general topics before turning to more personal matters. Oswald realized that Edward was a very earnest, lonely person who desperately wanted someone to notice him, listen to him and appreciate him but his nervous energy and endless useless facts precluded many from getting too close. There was also an air of melancholy about him, he kept Oswald in the dark about his past but from the way his eyes lowered and his breath became heavier Oswald knew it was not filled with joyful memories. 

Edward always approached him looking awkward and downtrodden like a disobedient child who had been caught doing something he shouldn’t and feared his mother’s wrath and rejection. Oswald couldn’t fully comprehend this behavior as he had yet to turn down an invitation to spend time with Edward, just the two of them as he had discovered that Edward’s company soothed him even with his annoying quirks. This was the closest Oswald had felt to his old self for the longest time, Edward’s humanity was helping to reignite Oswald’s, it was a slightly painful confusing process as previously he’d been fuelled by rage and his innate need for revenge but he’d begun to feel a myriad of emotions, some he didn’t want to admit even to himself but he had long ago acknowledged covertly to himself that he enjoyed Edward’s company. From Edward’s behavior towards him Oswald dared to hope that it’s not just loneliness that makes him seek Oswald out to spend time with; maybe he enjoys Oswald’s company too.

 

Oswald had arrived early, he felt a nervous flutter like a small hurricane of butterflies in his stomach that he couldn’t quite comprehend and wanted to get there before Edward hoping he could compose himself before he arrived. He settled into a booth with a good view of the door, Edward would be on time as usual and it was a good time for Oswald to reflect on what was presently happening in his life. He hadn’t felt connected to anyone in a long time, he’d felt hollowed out by what had transpired on the dock that fateful night, he lost everything essential to him, mainly his parents and his future. He should have been an old man with all his life experiences behind him instead he was sitting in a diner waiting on his friend, he was waiting on missing a step in his dream and waking up with a start in his cold dusty bed. What had he become? Could he even have friends?

His musing was cut short by the appearance of Edward at the door, his tall ungainly countenance and caring eyes searching from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. His face broke out into a wide beatific smile, just like it always did when he saw someone he liked as his eyes met Oswald’s. Oswald’s face mirrored this expression instinctively as his heart began to quicken in anticipation of Ed’s arrival. “Hi, have you ordered yet?” “No, I only just arrived.” “Are you just getting your usual?” Oswald nodded; he wasn’t overly interested in food. Edward walked over towards the waitress to get her attention so they could order then he returned smiling, ‘I ordered for you, how was your day?” 

While they waited for their food Oswald listened intently to Edward, how his day had been, how much better Isabella was, how volunteering was going and how delighted he was that Dougherty had disappeared. “Good riddance, he was no good for her anyway.” Oswald didn’t know whether to find it humorous or depressing that Edward was so enamored with a woman who clearly didn’t see him in a romantic light yet Edward was completely oblivious. Oswald knew how soul-crushingly miserable this would make Edward but he didn’t want to offend him by making him aware of the situation. 

Their dinner passed in amicable conversation as well as silences, Oswald continued to feel slightly nervous, as a feeling of creeping dread hung around his neck as though he was waiting on a devastating revelation but he didn’t know why. “I’m sorry I’m rambling on, you must have a thousand things to do.” Edward stood pulling his coat on, wrapping his scarf around his long neck as he lifted the check Oswald hadn’t even realized the waitress must have left on the table before pulling some money from his wallet. “My treat.” Oswald surged up from his seat to try and intercept Edward as he appreciated the gesture but he didn’t want Edward to feel like he had to pay for dinner, as Oswald knew for a fact that he was more financially secure and he would be happy to pay.

In his haste, Oswald didn’t see the large man who was standing behind him until he connected with his shoulder jostling the man so that he swayed towards a table where two women were having dinner together causing one of them to spill her drink onto the table. The man turned towards Oswald with a sour look on his face, he had height and bulk on Oswald but he pulled himself up to his full height and looked him square in the face. Just as Oswald was preparing to dispatch with the insignificant man, he felt cold fingers through the fabric of his shirt and realized that Edward had moved closer to be by his side. He looked up at Edward but his attention was riveted on the man, a short stare down ensured before the man scowled at them and walked away, Oswald barely noticed he was distracted by the miniscule trembling he could feel emanating from Edward’s hand. 

 

“I don’t know what’s wrong I’ve been trying to cheer her up with stories about us, Oswald but maybe I’m just making things worse.” Oh Edward, no you do so much for her.” “She did react this way before… I think the past sometimes weighs heavily on her… I just hope I can break through soon.” “Edward you’re too good, we all don’t deserve you.” Isabella’s hand tenderly covering Edward’s and their matching smiles made hot bitter acid rise in Oswald’s throat and he noiselessly withdrew from the door where he’d been hidden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title is taken from the poem Alone by Maya Angelou


	5. It Is A Moon Wrapped In Brown Paper. It Promises Light Like The Careful Undressing Of Love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helping Edward with a romantic endeavor brings Oswald’s jealousy to the surface forcing him to admit his feelings to himself at long last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed so please excuse all my mistakes.

“I want to do something special… romantic but I feel a little out of my depth.” Oswald had endured two weeks of secret glances, sweet smiles, the giggling and constant chatter of what Edward and Isabella were going to be doing when he wasn’t there. He had come to feel like an unwanted shadow in a sunny little loved up meadow and he’d never felt lonelier. They didn’t appear to be doing it on purpose, it just seemed to come naturally to them, and their affection for one another cocooned them in their own little world for two. Edward was also spending all his free time with her meaning no more dinners or coffee with Oswald outside of the lunchroom, he missed the awkward way he invited him, how you could always rely on Edward to be on time, his smiling face and the excitable way he got when telling Oswald new information.

Isolation covered Oswald like a shroud, it was heavy, prickly and he couldn’t escape from under it, even exerting his control in the criminal underworld brought him no respite. Edward had burrowed down deep under his skin without even trying, he could feel him beating within him like his own pulse but now within that room he felt the pulse ringing in his ears. Lunchtime had become bittersweet as he got to see Edward, have minimal interaction with him but mostly be ignored as Edward basked in the early glow of love, for her. A rage was slowly building within him, one that made him feel like an indulged child who was throwing a tantrum but he couldn’t help how he suffered.

“I’m unclear how I can help you as romance is not my forte but anything I can do for you.” Oswald felt conflicted about this situation; he would get to spend time alone with Edward, something that hadn’t happened in what felt like an eternity but it would be all about her. “I just need some advice and to go over some plans, our one month anniversary has to be special.” Edward looked at him with pleading eyes and Oswald knew that he would do anything to get to spend some extra time with him. “Anything you need Edward.”

 

Oswald scolded himself for the umpteenth time for fidgeting in his seat; he could almost hear his mother tut at him with a disapproving look. He checked the time again, 6:34 pm, Edward would be here at 7, and Oswald was filled with trepidation, as he really didn’t know much about romancing women just the inelegant attempts he’d seen over the years. There was a piercing ache in his own chest when he thought back on his own naïve attempts but he wanted to try and help Edward even if it would pain him to do so.

‘…I told her how he pined: and ah!... The deep, the low… the pleading tone… With which I sang another’s love… Interpreted my own.’ His mother’s soft voice drifted into his mind, he could feel the comforting heat from the fire, the rustle of the pages and his father listening intently from his place beside his mother. Poetry how had he not thought of this before, the outpouring of longing, the joy of seeing the light of love in one’s eyes and the exhilaration of love’s first bloom. He walked over to his bookcase, gently wiped the dust away from the spines of the books nestled within where he re-discovered his own small library of gothic horror, melodramatic plays, and gruesome fairy tales but no poetry. 

He took a deep breath poetry had always been a passion of his mother’s which meant he’d have to confront her rooms, a thing he hadn’t done since he’d returned as he still felt an unfathomable melancholy when he thought of his parents, he wasn’t sure how he would react to seeing the cold dead space that they had once imbued with their loving warm presence. He braced himself, pulled his shoulders back and walked briskly from his room, then down the hall towards the looming closed door, one that he had walked through many times in his life. His mother was an early riser who loved the warmth of the sun in the morning to gently wake her, the room filled with fresh delicately fragranced flowers, her dressing table kept neat and her humming quietly to herself in the mirror as she prepared for her day.

The door opened on creaking hinges, it was dark dusty solemn the room barely reflected in a grimy mirror, his mother’s toiletries tarnished and neglected. It felt wrong, hot tears started to stream down Oswald’s face as he walked over the threshold, his breath froze in his throat, he wanted to call out her name and she’d walk in from her bathroom. ‘My darling why are you crying?’ He would bury his face in her neck, hold her close absorb the warmth from her body, she would comfort him and he’d spend the rest of the day immersed in her, hearing her voice, holding her hand and he’d never utter another harsh word, he’d never leave her side, never lie again. Anything. 

He rushed over to her bookcase pushing away dusty cobwebs and grabbed all the books his arms could carry then ran back to his own rooms hoping he’d found something worthwhile for Edward.

 

“I don’t know, will all this poetry not seem kind of corny?” “I don’t mean for you to necessarily recite poetry but it will hopefully help you solve the great riddle of love, how it feels, what it looks like and how to express it.” Edward gave a dreamy sounding sigh, “well I know how it feels and what it looks like but I do need help expressing myself, I’m not… the most experienced in these matters.” Oswald had to use all his strength not to roll his eyes, Edward needed his help and he wasn’t upset with him, not really. “Well, I promise my dear Edward that immersion in these verses should help.”

Edward looked slightly unsure, Oswald understood that in these times romance was mainly dead, men didn’t seem to want or need it to get women’s attention everything had become a consumerists dream, convenience for convenience sake. The bittersweet agony of romance was left wanting in this time; Edward had pined for this woman then she became available and that was that. Oswald wasn’t sure he could help him, he knew nothing of courting, and he’d always been on the outside looking in when it came to these matters.

Edward’s face broke out into a huge grin, “you’re right, it can’t hurt to learn something new, Isabella will be impressed that I can recite historic poetry.” A little chill cemented itself in Oswald’s veins. He pulled the dusty tome closer to his face, reciting the next poem he had chosen, “The sense of the world is short… Long and various the report… To love and be beloved…” As Oswald read aloud from the book he glanced over at Edward who was laying with his head back on the adjacent chair, his eyes softly closed behind his glasses, his face tranquil with his cup of tea steaming in his cupped hand, listening and processing each line.

Oswald let his mind wander, he wasn’t reading the poems to Edward, he was reading them for him and he listened intently just as Oswald’s father always had to his mother as they relaxed in each others company before they would retire to bed for the night before the next day and the rest of their lives, it was contented but ardent, they moved in step like a complicated waltz that they both danced in their sleep. He looked back at the page, a pronounced pessimism engulfed him as he realized that this was all he would ever acquire, and he would forever be solitary. 

 

The sun was shining brightly in the sky yet nobody was indulging in a peaceful walk, no children played in the street and no cars cruised by with their tops down. Oswald walked his normal route towards the library; he was filled with a strange forbidding feeling. As he neared the building he saw Edward in the distance, something was different about him but from this distance, he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Edward must have spotted him as he moved away from the wall he was leaning against and walked over towards him, he approached him with slightly rounded shoulders, fidgeting fingers and downturned eyes. Oswald’s heart started to race, his Edward was back, had something happened?

“I need to speak to you, it’s urgent.” “Of course.” Before Oswald could fully comprehend it he was in the lunchroom with Edward looming over him with a pained expression on his face. Oswald looked up into his eyes causing Edward to adjust his glasses then move his face closer to his. Oswald broke out in a sweat as he realized that he was shaking all over, what was happening? “I don’t think I can fully express how much you’ve come to mean to me.” Everything stopped for Oswald all he could see and hear was Edward, his slowly dilating pupils, his nervous energy, and his tongue darting out to moisten his lips, Oswald was almost afraid to breathe.

Warm, faintly damp lips slammed down onto his own, as Edward’s cool hands gripped his face pulling him into a more comfortable position. Oswald couldn’t believe this was happening, it was everything he desired, and he had had an effect on Edward too. Oswald brought his hands up as far as he could reach on Edward, he could just reach his shoulders as he needed to feel grounded and closer to him all at once, he felt a tremor start in his knees flowing up through his lungs. He looked at Edward’s blissful face as he wanted to catalogue every little detail when he saw his eyes snap open before they turned glaring white zombified in his increasing skull like visage as the colour drained from his skin, his bones popping out in stark relief as his fingers started to spasm around Oswald’s face and he began to slip away from him. Oswald pulled his mouth away with great difficulty to let out an excruciating scream as he twisted and landed on the cold hard floor of his bedroom, his breathing labored and his heartbeat erratic. 

 

“Happy anniversary.” “Happy anniversary I can’t wait for tonight.” She placed a lingering kiss on Edward’s smiling lips before Edward took her hand gently in his, locked eyes with her, “I loved you first but afterwards your love… Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song… As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove…” “Oh Edward I didn’t know you knew Rossetti and you picked the perfect poem for us.” She threw her arms around his neck pulling him close to her; over her shoulder, Edward gave Oswald a quick contented smile before closing his eyes to savor this moment.

Across the table in the cramped library lunchroom Oswald’s jaw was clenched so tight he thought he could feel some of his teeth cracking, the cooing sounds of love were drowned out by the rushing in his ears and beneath the table, his shaking fist was in desperate need of something to crush. He could see that soon Edward would have no need of him, the past couple of weeks of sitting close together in his rooms, soft light accentuating Edward’s mesmerizing eyes and chiseled cheekbones, the way he cupped his teacup between his delicate fingers and the air permeated with the words of longing and love, it was exquisite torture. If only he had more time, he was sure that Edward would soon come to realize that there was something special between them that they were meant to be together.

She was the problem, bewitching him when she clearly could have any man she wanted, why did she have to set her sights on Edward? She didn’t deserve him, hadn’t even looked his way until she was temporarily out of gruff thugs, she would probably only use him until she’d fully healed from Dougherty then move on to someone like him. It was unfair that Oswald would always feel the crippling callous blackness of isolation; the gaping wounds of his past life would never heal only form new scars across his soul, an endless loop of misery and sorrow with no love to keep him warm and sheltered from the darkness. He felt as though his heart was in a vice, squeezed beyond its capacity but not broken as then it would have a chance to heal and hope was a spiteful mistress. 

“… She has plenty of rings, never really wears them… you should see them.” “I’m sure they’re beautiful, jewelry from that time period was so glamorous.” “Maybe she’ll sell me one… one day.” They both smiled at each other as though sharing a secret and Oswald felt the vice grip a little tighter.

 

Oswald leaned forward in his chair as he heard the sound of footsteps echoing from the staircase, he wasn’t worried as he would recognize Edward’s walk in the heaviest of fog or darkness but he was intrigued as to why he was here at this hour. A tentative knock at the door was followed by Ed’s slightly embarrassed face, his eyes shining in the low light of the room. “Edward? Is something wrong?” Edward walked fully into the room he was languid, slightly disheveled and his face was at war between happiness and excitement, then his mouth captured Oswald’s attention. As his face twitched into a crooked smile Oswald became aware of a slightly greasy pink hue on his top lip, she had branded him, trying to make him off limits to Oswald who’s breathing became shallow at the thought but before he could fully react he realized Edward had been addressing him. “… Wonderful and I have to thank you for all your help.” 

Oswald stood from his chair and walked briskly towards Edward, he would swallow down the pain, drown it in Edward’s happiness, as he really deserved to be happy for once. He placed his hand on Edward’s arm, and then took a deep breath to ask how things had gone when a sickly sweet smell invaded his nostrils and he barely held back his recoil. She was all over him, she had enchanted him, strung him along for god knows how long and now she had him fully enthralled and she wants everyone to know that this man was her slave. 

Oswald looked up at Edward who looked down at him with deep soulful eyes, Oswald got lost but he was no longer confused, he thought about the lunch room but he was in her place with Edward staring longingly at him from across the table, silly stories & riddles to cheer him up when he was sad, he would never have wasted all that time as she had how could she choose the likes of Dougherty over Edward? She didn’t deserve to have him maybe killing Dougherty had been a mistake as at least he occupied her time so she couldn’t get her covetous claws into Edward. 

A feeling that he now thought dormant reignited within his soul a rage that burned so deep it was somewhere between molten lava and the blistering heat of the sun. He felt it slithering up from the pit of his stomach, his skin growing tight and itchy as the wrath built until it spewed from his mouth like a cascade of hatred. His song erupted from his throat and he had a split second to feel thorough terror, what would happen to Edward? Would he survive? He slammed his eyes shut unable to witness the destruction of someone he felt very deeply for when he felt warm soft lips touch his own.

‘Edward…’ Behind his closed eyes he could see Edward’s smiling face, how his entire face broke out in a wide breathtakingly beautiful smile that made his entire face light up making you feel like the only person in the room. He thought about how he was tall and athletic but always tried to make himself seem smaller as he was an insecure gentle giant who wouldn’t hurt a fly, how he was patient, selfless and always put the feelings of others before his own. Even his slightly arrogant tilt of his chin when he’d bested you in a riddle or how he’d swell with pride when he taught you a new piece of information.

Oswald brought his clammy hands up onto Edward’s shoulders pulling him closer so he could intensify the kiss, he’d never felt a desire like this filling him with an anxious excitement. He slid his nervous fingers up the back of Edward’s smooth neck into his closely cropped hair, the desire to consume everything about Edward was quickly consuming him, he was drowning in his cologne, his taste and his warmth. He couldn’t contain the energy bubbling up within him, his inexperience in these matters was making him feel out of place, he wanted everything but wasn’t sure where to put his hands, how much pressure he should exert with his lips or tongue which in turn was making him feel frustration. 

He wanted to satisfy Edward, to have him feel the same momentous desire but he lacked the knowledge to do so. Still, that desire burned brightly within him, he needed more so he reluctantly pulled his lips away from Edward’s to place light kisses along his sharp cheekbones, his temples even the delicate skin of his eyelids. Still, he hungered for more so he trailed kisses slowly back down acutely aware of Edward’s soft little sighs until he reached his long, slender neck. “Oh, my… Oswald” Oswald pulled him more tightly against him, he parted his lips and placed a sucking kiss on the pulse point of Edward’s neck, he felt the need to leave a mark, his own brand upon his skin, he wanted to look upon it later so he knew it was real. Oswald felt a moan vibrate against his lips as he kissed his way back towards Edward’s mouth, when he felt his soft lips again he opened his eyes hoping to see his desire reflected on Edward’s face. He slowly opened his eyes seeing Edward’s delicately flushed face, eyes closed over, his face contorted in what Oswald hoped was pleasure before his brown eyes shot open then they rolled back becoming white. This encouraged Oswald who deepened the kiss when he had a flash memory of Edward’s prominent cheekbones becoming sharper, his face losing its rosiness to pallor and Oswald suddenly felt very cold.

He recoiled quickly from Edward, who attempted to move with him trying to recouple their lips as though he weren’t cognizant of what he was doing, like a puppet on a string. Oswald placed his hand on his chest to prevent him from moving forward; he took several deep breaths trying to get himself under control. All he wanted was for Edward to want him too, he felt like his heart was being stabbed by a thousand hot pins, to realize he could feel love but not have it returned even though deep down he knew he was a monstrous corruption who didn’t deserve happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title is taken from the poem Valentine by Carol Ann Duffy
> 
> Other poems referenced Love by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Eros by Ralph Waldo Emerson and I loved you first: but afterwards your love by Christina Rossetti


	6. And Neither The Angels In Heaven Above, Nor The Demons Down Under The Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love makes Oswald re-evaluate his life as he is confronted by his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed so please excuse all my mistakes.

Oswald skulked outside the library; Edward would be leaving any moment now to return to work leaving Isabella all alone in the library. He had finally decided what was the best course of action, as he couldn’t continue this way any longer, it was pure torture. Edward appeared at the door to the library with Isabella beside him, Oswald felt disappointment rise within him; he would have to put his plans on hold. Then Edward turned towards her with a smile and gave her a quick affectionate kiss on the lips before saying his goodbyes and leaving as she returned to work. Oswald let his face morph into a happy benevolent mask concealing his true intentions and walked towards the library.

As he approached the back of the bookshelves he spotted her standing on a small stepladder with a stack of books balanced under her arm. He walked up to the bottom of the ladder, “need any help, my dear?” She looked down at him with a smile, “hello Oswald we missed you at lunch today.” “I know I’m sorry I had some business I needed to take care of.” She shelved a few books then walked down the ladder a step only to snag her stockings on the edge of the first step, she leaned down to inspect it closer, “Ugh it’s been one thing after another today.”Oswald smiled at her, “unlucky day?” “Nothing too bad, would you like some coffee?” Oswald decided that they had exchanged adequate pleasantries it was time to put his plan into action. 

Oswald sang watching her eyes glaze over, he thought about her kissing Edward, tenderly touching his hand and gazing lovingly into his eyes and he stole all those memories and feelings hiding them away in an ironclad chest within her mind so that Edward would once again only be an acquaintance who visited her at work. He stopped singing watching her closely as she stood before him, “coffee would be wonderful my dear.” She gently shook her head, “I’ll stick the pot on now.” “Was Edward by earlier?” “Yes he was, he left about ten minutes ago.” “How is he?” “Oh, you know Edward, keeps himself busy.” “How about you my dear?” “I’ve just been busy with work, my life isn’t very interesting at the moment.” She smiled and lead the way towards the lunchroom, Oswald walked behind her thinking over the second and more challenging part of his plan as he patted his pocket that held a letter addressed to Edward.

 

Oswald stood on the bitterly cold docks looking out at the murky water, thinking about how much his life, as it was had revolved around this place of wasted potential. All the sadness, pain and heartbreak that had transpired right here, he heaved a sigh of relief that it was finally over, no more vengeance, no more manipulation and no more death as he finally had something else to live for. A slight tremor ran through him, he could feel cold sweat running down his neck making the icy air feel more pronounced, the fluttering of angry butterflies filled his stomach as he chewed on his lip. Edward was uncharacteristically late which his mind was screaming at him was a bad omen, he should leave but he could not.

No matter the consequences he had to tell Edward how he felt, he knew that it was love, an emotion that he had despised, thought of as pathetic and destroyed in others for longer than Edward had been alive but now it occupied every part of him. Edward had broken through all the barriers he had constructed within himself that were strengthened through years by anger, distrust, and rejection.

Oswald felt genuine fear as he knew this was hopeless, Edward would never feel the same way it was impossible, he had become a despicable demon, an offense to the very idea of love and Edward was completely besotted with another. This final rejection would be the denouement of everything Oswald ever was but he knew that he couldn’t cause Edward any distress so he would shut himself away. Maybe one day the bright flame of love would simmer down to the warm glow of friendship so that he could still have that human connection that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing all these years. 

A shaking hand landed on Oswald’s shoulder, ‘Edward…’ Oswald turned swiftly his nervous energy making him feel completely out of his depth but instead of calm brown, he came face to face with fiery blue. A sharp violent pain pierced through Oswald’s heart, shocking him into stillness, his eyes widened in shock to see the silver dagger protruding from his chest as a delicate hand twisted the blade cruelly. “Hello Oswald, long time no see.” As the blade was extracted the pain exploded throughout Oswald’s chest setting his lungs ablaze as he fell heavily to his knees. 

Standing before him with the blade pointed at him was a thin elegant woman with slightly frayed long flowing blonde hair, fine lines around her piercing eyes, wearing a simple black dress, Oswald felt confusion settle over him, why would this woman attack him? His blood ran down the blade over the handle to trickle over the woman’s left hand causing her to adjust her grip showcasing a small simple silver band. ‘Ozzie, have you ever been in love?’ Oswald focused on her face narrowing his eyes, the complexion was paler more flour than marble, she dressed plainly there was no glamour or sparkle to be seen and her eyes had lost their come-hither allure it had been replaced with a fiery rage. 

“Hiya Honey, it’s been so long and I know you’ve had a lot of friends between then and now but turns out you’re a tough cookie to pin down.” Nausea settled in Oswald’s stomach making him feel weak and unsteady, deep down he always knew that something like this would happen although Barbara had been the only survivor condemned to a heartbroken solitude. Where was Edward? He wished more than anything that this particular outcome had transpired at least a few years down the line, he would have died happy having finally experienced real companionship and affection from someone other than his parents. 

“Waiting on dear sweet Edward?” Oswald’s attention snapped back to her, did she say, Edward? The sickness in Oswald seemed to spread with his name on her lips, seeing his expression caused her face to break out into a huge smile. “Yes I know Edward, he’s a nice man I thought it was strange when he first mentioned you but I know that he’d be kind to anyone, it’s just in his nature.” A feverish chill ran through Oswald causing him to fall forward onto his hands and knees, he knew this was a bad situation but he couldn’t physically hold himself up even though he needed to know what had happened to Edward, he knew it was too late for him. 

Coolness under his chin made him raise his head to see her crouched in front of him at a relatively safe distance with the blade in her hand pressed into his skin. Her face twisted in a mocking sympathy, “I’ve seen how you look at him.” Oswald's eyes hardened, he pushed himself slightly forward causing the blade to slice at his throat as he grabbed onto her other wrist. A shadow of fear clouded over her eyes for a split second before the wrath swallowed it up again. “You can’t tell me… how can a monster like you feel love?” She pulled her wrist free, “A monster in love, how sweet but he’s already in love with a beautiful woman, and you just can’t compete.” Oswald’s body seized up in pain as he felt the rage build within him, it spread through his body like a virus making his nausea escalate as acidic sweat ran into his eyes.

Oswald parted his lips only to feel the cool tip of the blade, “no songs tonight honey.” Oswald glared at her, “don’t worry we won’t be here for much longer.” The tip of blade pierced Oswald’s bottom lip before it was moved back to his throat. “This is the end of the road for you, no more hurting innocent couples for your own sick amusement, Jim was right… you are an unholy monster and you have to be stopped.” Tears fell from her sorrow filled eyes as she tightened her grip on the blades handle. Oswald was having difficulty focussing on the conversation, he cleared his throat trying to get some moisture into his gasping gullet, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth as it felt like all the moisture from inside his head was now running down his face. “Jim? You mean the man you ignored for…” “You really thought I had a choice… that a man like Maroni… why am I trying to explain this to you.” 

A bone-deep tiredness settled over Oswald like a heavy blanket, he was clammy cold and struggling to support himself, his eyes were stinging and his lips had become numb. She leaned forward slightly looking deep into his eyes, “I see my final gift to you is taking effect.” She placed a hand on his shoulder then, with a gentle push Oswald fell backward onto his back, darkness was creeping in around the edges of his vision but he needed to know that she hadn’t done anything to Edward in revenge for Oswald’s past indiscretions. “Edward…” Oswald’s voice came out as a raspy whisper but he lacked the energy to raise it as he felt his heart slowing even though it was gripped by an icy terror. “I’d be more worried about myself if I were you.” Barbara’s grimly determined face with her steely-eyed stare looming over him was the last thing Oswald saw before the darkness finally filled his mind leaving him cold and alone.

 

"Os...Wald...Hear me..." Edward's muffled panicked voice tried to break through the dense fog filling Oswald's mind. He had wondered over the years how it would feel to die and now he knew that he'd be trapped in his own personal purgatory where he couldn't quite reach the person he wanted the most like a man dying of thirst in the desert trying to drink from a beautiful cool oasis only to clog his throat with hot gritty sand. "Oswald!" This was the cruelest of fates that his dying mind could have in store for him, Edward worried for him, by his side wanting him to answer him, he really didn't think he could bear this for too long. 

An ice-cold finger brushed his ear causing him to slowly open his eyes, to see a blurry figure hunched over him, he blinked and tried to focus to no avail so he tried to speak but all that came from his mouth was a terrifying guttural gasp. The figure moved closer to reveal an ashen disheveled Edward, his mouth was open in shock and his eyes were wide with fright before they slowly softened slightly in relief. "Oswald thank god...what's happened to you?...who did this? Are you in pain? Of course, you are that's a stupid question." Edward was nervously babbling, he looked so out of his depth but Oswald was just pleased that he was safe, he would die in Edward's arms he realized, he would have preferred more time but this was the best outcome of this particular situation. 

"Can you speak?" Oswald opened his mouth again but could only rasp at Edward, he could not feel most of his body including his face they were overcome with a cold numbness. "Oh, Oswald I'm so sorry." Edward pulled Oswald close to him in what he imagined was a comforting embrace but alas he couldn't feel it but it brought their faces much closer together. Through his increasingly blurred vision, Oswald looked intently at Edward carefully cataloging his features his prominent cheekbones, his brown hair curling over his forehead, his compassionate brown eyes that now were slightly red-rimmed and bewildered and his lips that looked like poisoned pomegranates but all Oswald wanted was one final taste. 

Using every last ounce of strength that he possessed Oswald pulled his face closer to Edwards, who stayed stock still as though unsure of what Oswald was going to do but supporting his weight as best he could. Oswald wanted this moment to be perfect, to be the embodiment of all his love to Edward so that Edward would always know how he felt and carry it with him for the rest of his days. He could only imagine how frightful he must look due to the fear reflected on Edward's face but the circumstances were beyond his control. 

Time, the horrible nature of time, you could never have enough and it was cruel and led to decay. Oswald just needed a little more time, he needed more, he wasn't greedy he just wanted to fulfill his one dream of being loved. As his deathly lips neared Edward's healthy enticing ones he thought he could just take a sip of Edward's vitality, just enough to heal him and Edward was young and healthy, he would survive and they could have more time together. He knew if Edward understood what was going to happen he'd say yes. Oswald drew himself in towards Edward until he could feel Edward's slightly warm labored breath ghosting over his own cold dry tongue, 'just one little taste my darling.' 

Oswald's attention was riveted on Edward's lips, just as he made the final move forward he fell slightly to the side so that his own icy bloody lips gently caressed the spot just beside Edward's mouth leaving a blood-stained trail, he just couldn't do it as he knew one small taste would never be enough. He had only had to extract the life from one other person in all this time and he remembered how addicting it was to be so close to death only to have life rush back in and he couldn't endanger Edward that way. Everything became sluggish and colder as Oswald shuddered beside Edward, he wanted to say goodbye but time had finally caught up and stolen his chance. 

"Oswald... Oswald... Oh god what can... Oswald, please listen to me I'm sorry but I need to leave you momentarily just to get help... I'll be back as soon as I can." Edward was holding him by the shoulders but Oswald didn't have the energy left to look upon his face any longer. He felt Edward gently prop him up against a bollard before wrapping Edward's coat around him, "Oswald, please try to stay awake I'll be back very soon then I'll get you to a hospital, I promise." Oswald rasped at him in the hope that it would reassure him then listened to his retreating footsteps until all he could hear was the wind and the lapping of the water just below him.

He was so tired and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that there was no hope left for him, Barbara had planned this very well leaving him isolated with no one to feast on condemning him to death or maybe she wanted him to kill Edward and live with the anguish but he felt the first option was more likely but he didn't know her well enough now maybe grief had twisted her mind. He let his mind settle, there was little to worry about now and listened to the captivating call of the wind, he could almost hear his mother calling him home for a nice cup of tea by the fire, just the three of them.He imagined that the heat of the fire started to suffuse his body, he could feel his fingers tingling as comforting heat spread through them, the tea heating his throat and quenching his thirst, he could just have a little doze here hopefully his mother wouldn't notice as she wouldn't approve of him wrinkling his new suit.

Thick acrid blood bubbled up his throat shocking Oswald back into the present, how long had Edward been gone? He moved his head to the side to look out at the icy water, he didn't want Edward to rush back only to find his frozen stiff corpse bloodied and grotesque, it would haunt all their time together when he'd think of them he'd see Oswald's horrific dead eyes. No, he had to spare him that fate, let him bask in the good times they spent together. He pushed himself away from the bollard making sharp needles dance up his arms that felt like dead weights. He landed flat on his face making an agonized scream shoot up from his chest only to become lodged in his throat. He crawled, dragging his legs behind him with great difficulty agonizing pain in every slight movement until he reached the edge of the pier, he gazed down into the choppy dirty water and internally heaved a resigned sigh, he knew deep down in the recesses of his soul that this would one day be his fate, born anew from the murky depths to one day return. With the last of his strength, he pulled himself forward and let gravity pull him into the dark waters below.

 

 

Epilogue

It was a balmy summer night when Edward drawn like a moth to a flame walked towards Oswald's family home, his feet seemed to walk the path as though they were bewitched into having a life of their own, taking him where his mind was too afraid to wander. Sweat ran down his thin frame, slightly thinner since the previous winter, he had developed a haunted look to his tired eyes, dark circles underneath with his hair slightly curling at the ends a symptom of his current anxious state.

He walked cautiously into Oswald's rooms, it felt wrong to be here without Oswald but at the same time, the rooms reflected so much of his personality that it had a comforting air, like home. He walked softly towards Oswald's favorite chair, running his hand over the back and down the arm, he had noticed the light that shone beside it when he had neared the house which had attracted him inside the house like a beacon on a stormy night. 

An open poetry book lay beside a cup of tea perched delicately on its saucer, he leaned down to place his fingers gingerly on it, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He turned searching the room for something with which to write, finding an orderly ornate writing desk in the corner. Opening a drawer he found Oswald's personalized stationary that he recognized from previous correspondence, on the table, there were two small inkwells, one with blue ink the other black and an elegant mother of pearl fountain pen which made his smile spread across his face, Oswald always loved beautiful things. 

Choosing the blue ink, as he wanted to personalize it with a little color, he pressed the pen onto the page a little too hard causing it to spread like a little ocean onto the page which made him lift it away and grab another page, he wanted this message to legible as it was important. Then taking advice from his dear friend he wrote two words that he hoped would convey everything that he wanted to say, 'come home.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title is taken from the poem Annabel Lee By Edgar Allan Poe
> 
> Edward's note is The Shortest and Sweetest of Songs by George MacDonald.


End file.
